


Temptation Heat (Beats Like a Drum)

by QueenCassidy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Couldn't get the idea of hot vampire Bucky out of my head, F/M, Lost Boys inspired, Smut, Symbolism, Vampire Sex, Vampire!Bucky, so much symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCassidy/pseuds/QueenCassidy
Summary: Darkness surrounds this town in fear and Bucky Barnes is at the center of it. You want nothing more than to call him out, but you’re swept into the thralls of temptation instead.





	Temptation Heat (Beats Like a Drum)

Salty air fills your lungs the second you step foot on the boardwalk. People are hustling around you as sugar-hyped children laugh joyously on their way to the next roller coaster. But underneath all that excitement, all the cheerful screams and arcade dings, the steady drum of nervousness pumps through everyone’s veins. Everyone that is, but you. Anticipation washes your soul anew. But it does not make you clean.

No. Tonight is the night.

Your friend has been distracted by the guy running the water gun game, just like you knew she would be. No one wanders around this town alone anymore. Not since people began disappearing quicker than they could print missing person photographs on the side of Carnation milk cartons. She would never join you on what you were about to do. Instead, she would try to manically talk you down from what the nervousness in her body told her was a terrible decision--even if she couldn’t explain why. So, as she purses her cherry painted lips and leans forward to offer Water Gun Guy a peak down her shirt you wander off on your own, sneakers tapping against the wooden planks as you search out your reason for coming here.

Not long after you catch a glimpse of his unmistakable leather jacket as it rounds the corner of a carnie trailer. Picking up your pace, you pass the corner after him as the howling laughter of several men greets your ears with each step you take. The man attached to the jacket appears before you, leaning against the trailer with his arms crossed, an amused half smirk resting on his ripe mouth.

Bucky Barnes. He and his friends are troublemakers in this town. A group of young guys who have no one but each other, who only speak to people outside of their group when they were trying to cause a ruckus and who make people grossly uneasy. They’ve been at it for so long now that everyone assumes these wild boys were the product of the Unspoken Thing, the Unknown that everyone fears but no one could form into words. Everyone, that is, but you.

No, you knew Bucky before the Darkness fell over this town. Back when he walked around here with a self assured swagger and a flavor of the week on each arm. When these boys would defend smaller kids from the testosterone-filled bullies that they have now become.

“Show him what happens when he disrespects us, Steve!” Bucky calls out. The other guys roar with encouragement as Steve continues to beat Brock Rumlow into the ground, and when Rumlow’s nose starts to pour blood like an ancient broken faucet you swore, even just for a second, that Steve got close to his face just to smell it.

“Bucky.”

He doesn’t jump in surprise like any other person might have when they were caught off guard. Instead, he slowly pulls his gaze from the other boys’ destruction and lands it on you. Bucky’s chin length hair frames his sharp cheeks, while his pale face makes the blue of his eyes appear keen as he surveys you top to bottom. He had seen you following him, then.

But no. Some part of you knew he has been expecting you this entire time and you have just delivered yourself to him like a full course meal. You hope he doesn’t see the way that makes you shiver.

“Hello, doll.” Bucky greets, his voice sounding like smooth honey. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long, Buck.” You jut your chin out to make yourself feel braver, more in control of this moment than you know you are. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?” He asks amused.

“Yes, we do.” You can see the way the attention from the other boys are leaving Steve’s less than fair fight and gathering on you and Bucky. There’s amusement in some of their gazes, but others, like Sam, glare at you as if you’re a foreigner invading their land. “I want to know what the hell is going on with you.”

Bucky parts his lips and you’re sure he’s going to offer some sarcastic or flirtatious remark, but he hesitates. Like you he seems to recognize the amount of attention your side conversation is garnering, and he doesn’t seem to want to offer them a free show. “How about we take this somewhere else?” He asks instead.

Part of you is elated, you didn’t expect him to spend more than a few breaths telling you to fuck off, or worse, leaving you like the heap on the ground that was once Brock Rumlow. Instead, Bucky Barnes wants to be alone with you. The rational part of you begs you to tell him to shove it. But you can’t. This is Bucky and you _have_ to know.

“Sure. Why not?” You reply.

It seems to be enough for him because he pushes off the wall he’s been leaning on since you arrived and stands at full attention. “Alright gentlemen, seems like I have other places to be tonight.” This gets the two of you a few jeers. “Steve’s in charge. And Steve?”

“Yeah Buck?”

“Make sure you all clean up after your messes.” Bucky orders. There’s a glint in Steve’s eye that you just can’t place, but you’re sure it means trouble. Brock Rumlow groans from his position on the ground, once again capturing Steve’s attention. The gang of guys holler out their encouragement, whether at Steve for what he was about to do or at Bucky for leaving with a girl on his arm you don’t know. What you do know is that Bucky’s hand is cold against the curve of your back as he guides you away from trouble and to his sleek parked bike hidden away with the others.

Or maybe he’s leading you to it.

~.~.~.~

The engine purrs to a stop outside of the abandoned church at the edge of town. After a suspicious fire several years ago that burned the south side of the building the town has left it sitting. The fire had burned so vivaciously it had tinted the sky red the whole night. According to the mayor, it was cheaper to build a new church near town square and leave what was left of history in the past. _Now, it’s a perfect place for young men to hide out when they aren’t causing trouble, _you reasoned.

“Home sweet home.” Bucky jokes as he slides off the bike. He holds his hands out to help you stand properly. You can’t help but be pleased that at least some part of him hasn’t changed.

“More like home sweet hideout from the cops, don’t you think?” You ask jokingly, but even you can hear the accusation on your tongue. Taste the bitterness behind your words.

“We don’t hide out, Doll. And the cops are the least of our worries. Ever since the Sheriff went missing they’ve been runnin’ around like headless chickens.” Bucky announces and, like you noticed with Steve, there’s a certain glint in his eye, a certain vibe you feel as he describes the missing sheriff that sends a chill up your spine. You know, somehow without words and within the depths of your core that he or one of his boys has murdered the sheriff. Just like you know that Brock Rumlow will be the next person to have his face printed on the side of a milk carton. For the first time all night you question what you’re doing, what you’re trying to prove to yourself and to Bucky. For the first time you feel the fear that the town lives awash under, and the angel on your shoulder begs you to get out of there before it’s too late.

Instead, as Bucky holds onto your hand and guides you to the sooty south side of the church you allow yourself to be led into the lion’s den.

He tugs you down the steps of the church into the dim hallway that houses the mausoleum. The walls are white marble blemished with hints of red you’re sure have gathered with age. But then, you’re not sure if you can say the same for the dotted trail on the stone floor that you’d swear is blood if only you could see better in the darkness. The doorways are shaped like crosses and you feel the statue of the Mother casting judgement as you step by her, all the while Bucky steps around the limited lighting with muscle memory, never once sparing a glance to all the details that catch your eye.

Finally, the end of the hall opens up into a large open area. The walls here are different, classic grey stone piled high to the top. You’re definitely underground at this level of the church so there’s not a window in sight. The room would be dark as night if not for the candles scattered around the area, illuminating the strewn chairs and various Knick knacks that point to signs of habitation. There’s a chill here that didn’t exist in the corridor. The Darkness that you’d felt all night in Bucky’s presence feels as if it’s pouring itself into the room and leaving no corner untouched. You turn to look at Bucky to see if he feels the sudden change and find him already staring at you, that cocksure smirk resting on his lips.

“You alright there, doll?” He asks.

“Yeah, Buck. I’m good.”

“Well then. How ‘bout I pour us a drink and we have that talk?” He moves to your right, and suddenly you notice the large canopy bed resting on elevated ground. The sheets are white and the drapery nearly transparent. It’s awash in the glow of the candles and you begin to move towards it, nearly spellbound. Bucky meets you beside the bed with a decorated bottle in his hand. “Well go on then, have a seat.”

Who were you to say no? You sit at the end of the bed where the canopy doesn’t stretch and tuck your legs beneath you. Bucky watches your every movement, eyes trailing from the patch of skin above your sneakers to up to meet your eyes, and he seems pleased to see that you’ve noticed. “That’s quite a fancy bottle. I’m assuming you didn’t find this at the liquor store.” You say.

“This is something special. To die for, really.” Bucky says as the bed dips beside you. He sits closer than you expect, jeans brushing against your thigh sending a shiver up your spine, and passes you the bottle. “Have a drink, sweetheart.”

The bottle, a pale shade of blue, is decorated in gold wrapping with symbols pressed into the metal and red jewels shining in the low light. There’s an unexplainable energy radiating from it and, like the bed, it pulls you in. Hypnotizes you with potential.

Your body trembles with anticipation.

Then you pull off the cork, tip it back, and let the liquid meet your tongue. It’s intoxicating. You take one gulp, then another, and allow the metallic sweetness to pour down your throat like honey. All the while Bucky watches the scene with intense focus.

“What’s in that?” You ask as you finally cork the bottle.

“Something special.” He smirks, “Did you like it?”

“It’s very addicting.”

He slides close and rests his hand on your thigh, nose brushing softly against your cheek. “I’m glad. I’ve missed you.”

You melt at his confession. After months of worrying and wondering at least the two of you had that in common. “I’ve missed you too, Buck. You just disappeared, no one saw you for weeks. And then you come back…like this.”

“Like what?”

“Cruel. Violent. Cold to everyone around you. To me. We were friends at the very least. And I thought that maybe we…well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. And now you’re just…there’s something different about you. What happened?” You pull his face away from your cheeks so your eyes could meet. “This might sound silly but there’s this…this Presence all over town. I know everyone’s been feeling it. People are disappearing and the town’s scared. Did it… get you, too?”

“Nothing got me, Doll. I was…enlightened. I’ve become more than I was. Then I did the same to Steve, Sam, the others, and now…well I run this town.” He spreads his arms wide to accentuate his point.

“You don’t run anything, James Barnes. You’re just a criminal.” You accuse.

“Oh, I think I do. I think I’m the one keeping the journalists busy. Leading the cops on trails with dead ends. I’m what this town is scared of. This is my empire. And you know what I really want?”

“What?”

“You. Give into temptation. Give into me, my doll. You’ll have all you’ll ever need.” He punctuates his words with a glide of his cool lips on your heated skin, trailing over your cheek, across your lips, down to your neck where he presses down a soft kiss.

Anticipation and nervousness give way to desire as your body floods with unbridled lust for this man. This man who’s been the center of your fantasies and the center of your nightmares. Who has kept you up at night with thoughts of desire and worry for his wellbeing. He’s here with you now and despite everything that has happened, or hell maybe because of it, you want to make this moment count.

So, you pull his face up to yours and seal your lips together in a searing kiss. Bucky makes a surprised little grunt at your forwardness and you can’t help but feel empowered because you’ve finally caught him off guard. He licks into your mouth as you feel his deft fingers slipping under your shirt and up to your chest, wanting to waste no time in seeking out something he has desired for so long.

You lean back against the white sheets, pulling the weight of him on top of you as he settles. A perfect fit between your thighs. The two of you exchange wet kisses and shared breaths, only separating for Bucky to shed his leather jacket and pull the red shirt he wore beneath it over his head. His chest is marked with faded scars and defined muscles. Adonis before your very eyes.

Bucky makes quick work of your own shirt, tossing the fabric and your bra somewhere you don’t care to look before he latches his lips onto a nipple. You scratch your nails down his back as the sharp sting of his teeth against your sensitive skin shoots pleasure through your veins and down to your core, while Bucky moans in delight at the burn of your trail. It’s as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, exactly where to touch to make you scream because his fingers deftly undo the button of your jeans and push them down your thighs to expose you to the cool air. Two fingers find your center slick and waiting while the third circles your clit in slow rhythmic motions.

“Look at you, sweetheart. All spread out and ready for me. Knew you’d feel this perfect.” He groans at the sight of you, your body laid out on white sheets, the canopy shrouding the two of you solely in this moment together. His Madonna.

You pull him back down to your mouth, needing to feel him against you as his fingers thrust inside you, the wet _slap slap slap_ of his motions reverberating in the room. And when your orgasm hits you it’s as if you’ve ascending from your body, reaching a new height as waves and waves of pleasure ebb and flow.

Time passes languidly after, and as you return to your senses Bucky fills your vision. His hand coated in your wetness, and his eyes hold yours as he brings his hand up to his lips for a taste. “Sweet.” He groans, “But I want to try something even sweeter.”

He strips himself of his jeans, leaving him as bare to the engulfing air as you are. The sculpted lines of his hips are a sight to behold. No mortal man should be that perfect. You push yourself up onto your elbows to better take in the sight of him and your head swims as if it’s fighting against crashing tides. It doesn’t take more than a second for you to realize that it’s not just time that passing by languidly, but you as well. You’re movements are a slow, stumbling drunkenness as you pull Bucky back down to you. The feel of his skin against generating electric between your bodies.

And when he slides in. _Oh_, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He starts a harsh pace, deep solid snaps of his hips against yours that had you seeing stars. Your senses are dialed up to a ten and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Bucky that has you feeling this way, but whatever it is you never want it to end. Bucky’s eyes hold yours as he fucks you hard, and even in your strung out state you can see how they’re different, changing right in front of you. Gaze pulling away from his, your head tilts back on a keening moan as pleasure continues to overwhelm you.

The column of your throat rests right in Bucky’s sight and he takes the opportunity presented to him. You feel the cool of his lips of the heated skin of your throat before a hint of teeth, and then he’s biting down, breaking the skin and sucking the sweetened blood that meets his tongue.

You call out in pleasure and pain. The two mixing so deliciously together you don’t know where one ends and the other begins.

When Bucky pulls back to look at you, hips never stopping their torturous pace, his blue eyes are tinted with yellow. Your blood coats his lips and chin. His fangs, sharp pointed pearls, lose small droplets of blood onto the white bed spread, staining it with your sins. “Just how I imagined you’d taste.”

You should feel scared, you know that. But that feeling is buried deep under your loss of all rationality. Pressure surrounds you on all sides, weighing down with each passing moment but you thrum under it. Thrive under it. Bucky brings his left wrist to his mouth and bites down hard. Blood streams out from the wound, a burning contrast to his pale skin, and he guides it up to your already parted lips. “C’mon. Have a taste.” He murmurs.

Everything is so consuming, the heat of this moment, the feelings Bucky is invoking in your soul, in your cunt, that in the end there is no choice but to latch on to what he’s offering you. Something more than just a taste.

The metallic sweetness bursts onto your taste buds, the same taste you gulped from the bottle. Blood. Bucky’s blood. He lets out a groan the resounds off the walls, his hips pick up a harsher pace. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, eyes rolling back in pleasure as you continue to suck at Bucky’s wrist, consumed and surrounded by every part of him as his teeth find that spot in your neck and he does the same.

You swallow each other down, body and soul.

And as you fall over the edge and into the Darkness that surrounds you, Bucky is there to guide you with open arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched The Lost Boys a few weeks ago and could not get the thought of sexy vampire!Bucky out of my head. This fic was born out of my thirst for Bucky Barnes and for spooky fics. I hope you enjoy! Please drop me some kudos. I love them more than chocolate.


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